I was recently interviewed by Kari Lorenson at Knotwe: The Hub for Fiber, Textiles, Surface Design. If you have time to check out their site, it's gorgeous, really cool and I was fairly sure they'd made a mistake in contacting me because I'm so not hip. I'm like, a 43-year-old mom. In Alaska. And when the smart interview questions appeared (after Kari took the time to read my ENTIRE blog, no less) ... they were hard to answer. So because I spent a lot of time thinking about them, I wanted to share at least one of the Q & A's here.

This was question #3:

"I am so impressed with the mastery of so many techniques you incorporate into your work. The execution and compositions are complex, decisive and from reading your blog, your past experiences working in textile production and highly customized work, your family have all gave you a wide breadth of experiences to draw upon. To me the art of what you create is in part not only in the conceptual ideas you explore but the way you are able to blend these processes into a vocabulary that re-enforces the presence of the work. Do you feel like the forces behind your work and the processes you take into the fold have changed over time? Are there specific creative risks that you hope to take on in the next few projects?"

My mother’s family is in Sweden so my connection to them is limited in terms of distance and language [...]. So while I’ve had fleeting exposure, childhood memory and stories, I can only speculate about who they were and are as people, as women, as makers. Still, they’ve given me this great gift of history and skill. I’m grateful for this sensibility and this need to make, re-make, make better, make well and feel strongly that the ability to create something from nothing and the sensitivity towards any maker’s hand is a value not taught much anymore. For something so commonplace just a few generations ago, it’s slipping away [...].

The physical gift from these women is the work they’ve produced and sent to me for decades— much of it in the form of crochet and embroidery. I spent 25 years hauling it around and grumbling about the outdated form, about the quantity that just kept coming, threatening to toss it all, but then finally deciding to cut it apart and re-use it as a form of reverence. Which in some respects was the most unthinkable and disrespectful thing to do and I would still feel horrible about it if it weren’t for the incredible release I experienced.

The greater challenge with this type of material, is how to channel this buried feminine energy — this silent stabbing of hook and needle — and create something meaningful and complex from the original work. I will say right now that this isn’t easy on a number of levels, but two dichotomies immediately come to mind — first, it’s difficult to execute a contemporary idea from an outdated or vintage item. I am always teetering on the edge of nostalgia with these cloths (and please grab me if I fall off that cliff). And second, I want to revere each object as the last of its kind, but am absolutely propelled and emboldened by the seemingly endless quantity of domestic and decorative linens in the world. When it comes to making that cut, this lessens the hesitation.

Another challenge is that of the hand. Because I learned to embroider and crochet at such a young age, then spent so many years in production and design for the clothing industry (9 of 12 years in custom bridal, starting when I was 17) my hand instinctively makes marks that are even and aligned. I fight this constantly and can tell when I’ve slipped into autopilot; it is a huge effort to remain loose and chaotic in order to achieve an emotional resonance with the handwork.

My process is definitely evolving. I’ve been drawn to the quilt form for a long time, probably because I have very little history with quilts; the women in my family were/are crocheters, knitters, embroiderers and weavers. The only quilt I inherited was a brittle crazy quilt top that came from a great, great aunt who made it after emigrating to Boston, then sent it to Sweden where it was ridiculed and put in a trunk for 50 years (this, according to my mother, who was a child at the time of its arrival). So I am drawn to the quilt form as a vessel for narrative, language, history, effort, thoughts, materials and the domestic role. Recently, however, I’ve been exploring other forms such as upholstery, felting and embroidery all as an attempt to house found objects that are completely unrelated to textiles such as bone, stone, hair and shell.

I’m so interested in narrative, and the next few larger works waiting in the wings are exploring the narrative of others, some of it fictional. I don’t want to sound like a lunatic when I say I hear voices,

Good Long Day Amy,
So nice to see your process in these photos - how you work. Did you take the photo of your hand yourself? Try the right one next time (or more likely you have.) I took several yesterday and it was quite comical.

Roxanne,
Ahh yes, taking ones' own in-process photos is a gas. Time to get a Go-Pro and get serious about the Selfie....
XO
Amy

Reply

Lesa

6/20/2015 12:01:10 am

I love this piece....the colors and texture just drew me in. Than i read your answer to the question.....people have always been asking complicated questions of artists...and this one takes the cake...how did you know just how to answer, and sound so true and smart? I loved it. I especially love how you chose to carry the items with you for years, then use them....i feel like your telling MY story! As an artist, i feel like i'm just near where i want to be...and yet i cant seem to jump into it with both hands and produce....i have found my medium, after years of searching...and i know my hands are ready to go....but the imagery isn't there....i am more of a process girl......so, just now, i've been given the time away from the 9 to 5... I have a studio, and all kinds of materials...and i'm stuck......your facebook post has drawn me closer.....and yet i wish you were right here so i could pick your brain for help.....alaska...god, you couldn't be farther away.....i'm in MA...east coast ! Ha! Good wishes to you....and i hope i find more about you the further i look, here on this site. Lesa

Lesa,
I'm glad you recognize this as a complicated question, because I thought it was too. All of them required a lot of thought and I had to sit with them for a number of days, and then I wrote a bunch of garbage beforeI edited and edited until I could find the heart of what I wanted to convey. I'm happy some of this resonated with you. (Happier to sound "true and smart"). Yes, we are far apart, but the Internet is an amazing gathering place and I've met so many like-minded people here, most of whom I will never truly meet in person. Welcome to the fold.
XO
Amy

Reply

julia

6/20/2015 04:15:08 am

What a terrific work. I love how you are able to meld different textures and techniques, and show respect for the materials.

So many thanks to all who have left comments here and on Facebook. I wish I could respond to each and every one with some new version of "thank you" wittily tailored to every note. I'm just so appreciative of the fact that people take the time to read the blog. There are so many out there to read and I'm fully aware of how much of a time commitment it takes to follow. What a wonderful community we have here!
XO
Amy

Reply

velma bolyard

6/23/2015 07:25:41 pm

good words, and perhaps a thought about how it could be for the younger artists coming on. i like how your writing here gets me thinking.

Hi Velma,
Writing gets me thinking, too. I think there definitely needs to be an on-going conversation between "younger" textile artists. I'm in my 40's, hardly "young," but perhaps in comparison to the 60-somethings who've been doing this work for many years. I'm in the middle here ... I want and need so much to learn from the established artists, but we all need to acknowledge the youthful energy that is up and coming, then learn from it as well. So important (to me) to look up and behind at the same time -- all in an effort to move forward.
Thanks for reading!
XO
Amy

Reply

Ingrid

6/26/2015 02:11:21 pm

Great work Amy absolutely awesome. How many years did I hang on to that grey and gold wool anyway? Well it sure looks better in your work than a skirt on me. Hope to see it soon.

Reply

Your comment will be posted after it is approved.

Leave a Reply.

Amy Meissner

Artist in Anchorage, Alaska, sometimes blogging about the collision of history, family & art, with the understanding that none exists without the other.​